Mind over Matter
by Thought Monger
Summary: Targon, a blue magic wielding pitmage finds himself set up against a nearly invincible foe. His approach of mind over matter fades as he finds a startling truth.


Mind over Matter  
  
The two opponents stepped into the ring, eyeing each other carefully. They locked each other's eyes, each waiting for the other to blink, falter, show weakness. One man, Saurus, was tall and well built. He wore a large sparkling coat of chain-mail, and broadsword at his waist. He was a renowned pitfighter for his seemingly endless stores of red mana, and his brutal combat skills. His challenger was a smaller man, who wore no armour and held merely a dagger, Targon. Targon was a mage of the blue magics, adept in illusions and counter spells, as well as summoning unstoppable armies of birds. Targon shivered in the expectation of the fight. He was nervous, Saurus remained undefeated, and Targon had proved his mortal flaws time and time again as he barely stumbled out of the arena alive. Still, he lived for magic, he loved the way he could put his soul into every spell, mould the versatile powers of mana to his will in order to further its power. Even further he loved he loved the crowd. The feeling of basking in the glory of his victory warmed more than the magic in his veins or the sun on his face, the sun which could not even hold back his anxious shivers. He admitted to himself that he was nervous. However, he trained a half year for this fight, hiding his studies as he expanded his magic capabilities into the realm red. He hoped that he could subdue Saurus long enough to drain all of the red mana, leaving the mage dependant on his combat skills.  
  
"You're illusions will not fool me. You blue mages believe in mind over matter. Will your precious counterspells save you from this?" his opponent jeered as he drew his broadsword and took a swing with lightning speed.  
  
Targon returned the gesture with a laugh "I guess not, if you know which one of me to hit"  
  
Targon's form split into five identical images, each copying the original's motions exactly. The four false illusions melted away, Targon kicked himself internally for wasting mana before the fight started, his self- punishment was cut short as the trumpet blew, signalling the start of the fight. Immediately it seemed as if Saurus has entered a trance. His eyes were closed, mouth muttering the words of magic. Targon felt the red mana wane from the space around him. Targon used a simple leap spell to hurl himself quickly across the arena, plunging his dagger at his opponents exposed neck. Unexpectedly Targon's dagger glanced off the exposed skin on Saurus' neck as if it were solid steel. Targon did not recognize the presence of any warding spells or illusions, and yet his opponent's bare skin had deflected six inches of steel. Although it did not kill Saurus, the blow caused him to stagger, losing his spell. The confused Targon quickly regained the initiative, summoning a screeching sea hawk. The bird's shrill shrieks filled the air, its cries soon drew out three similar hawks, all forming a protective circle around Targon, who waited for his enemy to make the next move. Enraged by the arrogance of this upstart mage, Saurus channelled his hateful energy into a deadly ball of fire aimed directly at Targon.  
  
"Perhaps this will punish your impudence!" he laughed menacingly  
  
Strangely, the power that fuelled the intense flame was not mana. Targon sensed that all the mana levels in the spectrum remained unused. Startled by this, Targon summoned a simple a hydroblast, guaranteed to stop the fireball in its path. To his surprise, the hydroblast did nothing, fizzling as though it no energy to oppose. Confused, Targon cast another, anything to deter this flaming sphere hurtling towards him. However the second counterspell failed as well. Targon hurled himself away from the ball's path, however not far enough. The flames scorched the side of his body with a heat not typical of magical fire, searing and burning the flesh a way that only magical healing could restore it. Something was amiss.  
  
"You've had your fun barbarian, you're not the only one who can wield fire!"  
  
In the hopes that Saurus had spent most of his energy on the great fireball, Targon sent a fireball of his own, travelling through the air still smoking from the first. Saurus did not even blink as the gaping maw of the fireball closed around him, engulfing him in flames that could incinerate entire buildings in second. When the smoke and fire cleared he saw his opponent standing untouched, readying to cast another spell. Targon's mind reeled at this sight, how was this possible?  
  
Targon sent his summoned birds at his enemy, hoping they could hold off Saurus' spells, however they could not manage to stop him from casting a mana flare over the arena before he was forced to draw his broadsword and defend himself. Saurus swung at the first hawk as it raced towards him, aiming for his eyes, which Targon hoped would be the most vulnerable spot. The hawk split in half, its feathers spraying off it's now flightless body. While the birds held his enemy at bay, Targon prepared to summon something bigger. Drawing deeply into his red mana, now amplified by the mana flare, Targon prepared a powerful summon spell. Taking the overflow of red mana, Targon began to craft it, caress it, give it shape, bestow life upon the very dirt beneath his feet. Immediately a gargantuan nightmarish beast rose up from the very ground beneath it, sucking the very forces of mana within the turf, and using them to add to its own offensive power.  
  
"I'll show you brute force!"  
  
The massive Petradon shambled towards Saurus, who had just finished dispatching the last bird. The crowd had grown silent. Saurus looked up the monster making its way towards him, but he did not look the least bit intimidated. Instead he moved with an unnatural speed crossing the space between him and the monster in a matter of seconds, he leaped at swinging his broadsword as if it were weightless. The monster recoiled as a wide gash opened in its chest. The beast responded by swinging a massive fist at Saurus, Targon channelled all the remaining red mana into this blow, which was capable of instantly decapitating an ordinary man. Saurus it seemed was not ordinary. He took the blow full to the chest. It lifted him off the ground like a rag doll, sending over barricades encircling the fighting area, and into the stands, packed with anticipation of this event. Spectators scattered as his massive bulk slammed into the wooden stadium. Saurus, however, got up. His chain mail was ruined, and yet Saurus was unscathed. Targon was startled at this, this was not possible! It could not be possible! The only thing that could survive such a blow was a dragon. A dragon! That was it!  
  
Targon started to put together the pieces of the puzzle in his mind. The ability to conjure non-magical fire at will, skin a hard as dragon scales, immunity to even the deadliest of flames, and the strength and speed of a possessed man. Targon could only find one answer, but he did not know if it was true.  
  
"We will know soon enough." he muttered beneath his breath.  
  
He tried to draw into his red mana, and found that none was left, even with the aid of the mana flare. Targon was desperate, he unsummoned the Petradon, and felt the mana the creature had consumed return to the earth, quickly he grasped onto it, and cast a simple spell that he earlier deemed useless, break open. With the newfound discovery to "morph" summons, spells had been devised to uncover the true identities of these morphs, break open the shell hiding the true creature. Targon aimed the spell at Saurus, who was now making his way toward Targon with a startling speed. His opponent reeled as though he had been struck by a club of pure energy. His body shivered uncontrollably, soon it started to convulse, growing rapidly. Sharp spikes ripped through the skin on his back, his elbow joints reversed to that of a four-legged animal, his muscle bulged as his skin turn to fiery red scales. Where Saurus had stood mere seconds ago, there now stood a hulking red dragon. The crowd gasped, shocked at this turn in events. Their awe broken as the dragon released a mighty roar.  
  
"You will die manling! You will die a death so painful that you beg for me to take you before the end, but that end will not come."  
  
The enraged dragon lunged at Targon, who paid it no heed, he was too busy casting one last spell, drawing upon his last reserves of red mana, he sculpted a well known legend of the ring, the legendary Hivis of the Scale. Hivis was a powerful lizard-man, rumoured to be an extraordinary Viashno. He had the ability to bend dragons to his will. Saurus stopped his lunge in mid-air and stared haltingly at the new summon. Realizing the threat it posed, Saurus channelled all his remaining mana into a powerful fireball. Targon smiled inwardly as the fireball lunged towards his creation, leaving it in a burning heap. In a last ditch effort, Targon summoned a wall of decoys, scores of little illusion clones, moving in sync with him. The dragon laughed cruelly.  
  
"What chance do you think you have now manling? You're cunning cannot save you from brute force. With these dragon eyes I can see you through your delicately woven illusions. You cannot win!"  
  
Targon was backed against the arena walls, although he was not afraid, he was merely buying time. He returned the jest.  
  
"True, you're eyes can pierce the boundaries of magic, and yet they cannot se through the tricks of a street illusionist." He gestured toward the burning remains of Hivis of the Scale.  
  
The dragon turned its acute gaze onto the charred remains. No scent of burning flesh arose from this corpse, but the scent of smouldering hickory wood, the wood used for intricately detailed manikins... Saurus whirled desperately to the true Hivis of the Scale standing behind him. Desperately he attempted to kill it, drawing in a giant breath of deadly dragon fire, powerful enough to kill any living creature. However that breath never released. Hivis exerted his mind control over the dragon. The dragon shook desperately, trying to throw off the hold that Hivis held on his brain, desperately seeking to release the breath. The dragon felt the dragon fire burning up his lungs, pressure building like a heated kettle.  
  
The dragon exploded in a burst of flames, which quickly consumed the remnants of his body, soon leaving nothing but a single dragon scale lying in the ashes. Targon's illusions promptly vanished, he unsummoned Hivis. The crowd was silent, watching. Targon made his way over the heap of ashes, and retrieved the scale. The crowd began to cheer, as Targon felt that pride and exultation bubbling up inside of him. His exhaustion and wounds faded under the warmth that spread from the crowd's cheer. He smiled, basking in the applause. Recalling an old adage he turned towards the ashes remaining of Saurus the dragon.  
  
"What was that you said about mind over matter?" 


End file.
